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“SHIVER! SHIVER, GINGER, COME QUICK! IT’S PRINCESS CLARA!” Hawthorn ran towards the other two regents, holding a letter in one hand and a damp handkerchief in the other hand. The flowery regent was visibly distraught, and it took the other two regents a few minutes just to get him to speak. He began babbling sadly about Clara and how it was such a horrible turn of events, and they grew more and more frightened by the minute, worried that something terrible had happened to their princess.
“What’s going on?”
It was Captain Hoffman, the (youngest ever) captain of the guard and the only Nutcracker Soldier in all of the realms. He’d come into the regents’ throne room with his hand on his sword hilt when he’d heard Hawthorn’s distress, and now he came towards the regents to take the letter out of Hawthorn’s hand. All three regents looked towards him as he began to read it out loud.
“‘Princess Clara Stahlbaum will be coming to the Realms to stay for a period of time not yet determined, following-’” his words slowed, became somewhat more halting “‘-the deaths of her father and siblings in a terrible house fire. She requests your patience, comfort and support during these trying times, and she thanks you in advance for your understanding of her situation.’”
He hung his head sadly, and tears stood in Hawthorn’s eyes again. Shiver looked at his hands, before shaking his head.
“Poor Clara. The poor thing. First her mother last year, and now this?” Mother Ginger’s usually jovial voice was grim and mournful.
“When is she to arrive?” Captain Hoffman asked quietly, looking at his rulers.
“Wh-when Drosselmeyer gave that letter to the Guards of the bridge, he told them to expect her arrival soon, within the coming days. The funeral just happened, in the other world, and he is trying to get her settled somewhat before she comes to stay here. He wants to give her all the time she needs to…” Hawthorn replied, trying to steady himself. “..to process th..things…” the more emotional Regent sniffled and leaned against Shiver, who’d seated himself next to him.
“I see. Who will meet her at the portal into this realm?” Captain Hoffman’s back was painfully straight, and he kept his face carefully neutral, despite the slight damp shine in his eyes. Hearing of how his friend was hurting had left the usually unshakeable captain quite saddened.
“I think that you should, Captain. You were her most trusted guard last time she was here, and you seemed to be quite close friends. She will appreciate a familiar face, I think, when she arrives.” Mother Ginger knew that that was what he’d been subtly asking permission for, and she was more than happy to oblige. Clara needed comfort, and Captain Hoffman was the first friend she’d made in the Realms. It only made sense that he should be the first to see her when she arrived.
“Very well, Mother Ginger. I will begin preparing a party to escort her from the christmas tree forest.” Hoffman bowed to the regents, who dismissed him with waves of their hands. Hawthorn and Shiver retired to their respective quarters within the castle, while Mother Ginger remained in the throne room, looking at the letter Captain Hoffman had left behind. The stylized ‘D’ at the bottom of the parchment was unmistakably the signature of Drosselmeyer, and he would not have lied to them, especially not about such grave matters as these. So it was true.
Clara Stahlbaum truly was every inch her mother’s daughter.
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Clara arrived just two days after Drosselmeyer’s letter did. Captain Hoffman’s greeting party had only been waiting for her for about an hour or so before they saw the portal glowing slightly, and they watched her run through it. Tears were streaming from her eyes, and she ran straight to Philip, embracing him when she reached him and burying her face into the front of his uniform. She was wearing nothing but a nightgown and shawl, her bare feet sinking into the soft snow drifts of the Christmas Tree Forest. Philip motioned to one of the other guards, who rushed forward with a warm cloak. He kept one arm wrapped protectively around his princess, while he pulled the cloak over her shivering body with the other.
“Shh, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” He spoke softly in her ear as she cried, glancing down at her before looking back up to see if anyone else had come with her. Sure enough, Drosselmeyer himself came through a few moments later, nodding for him to come over and have a word.
“I’ll be right back, princess. I need to talk to someone. Why don’t you sit down for a moment and put on some shoes, hm? Your feet must be very cold. One of my fellow soldiers will bring you something warm and dry to put on.”
She was crying almost silently, but she began to cry harder as he pulled away. One of the other guards came and steadied her, helping her sit on a nearby log and handing her a warm pair of boots. All of the soldiers stood solemnly, not really knowing what to do with themselves. Clara was usually such a bubbly, happy princess.
Captain Hoffman bowed respectfully to Drosselmeyer when he reached the old man, then straightened and leaned in to listen to what he had to say.
“Captain, it’s nice to finally meet you. Clara talked about you to me, when she was telling me of her adventures in the Realms. I was hoping that you’d be the one to escort her back to the palace. There is something I should tell you, however. I tried to convince her to wait another day or two, but she simply wouldn’t hear of it. The stress of her current situation has been quite taxing on her, and I’m worried she might fall ill if she doesn’t get some rest soon. She’s only stayed one night in my home so far since the fire, but she woke up crying twice and only slept soundly when I let her curl up in my workshop while I worked on something for awhile. She needs someone to be there for her, and a distraction to take her mind off of things. Someone needs to chase the nightmares away."
Phillip glanced back at Clara, who now sat curled up on the snowy log with a blank expression, and furrowed his brows in sympathy before looking back at Drosselmeyer and nodding. Drosselmeyer looked somewhat relieved by how much he visibly cared about Clara.
“Oh, and I trust that you can be discreet with this information, yes? The whole of the Realms does not need to know that their princess is unwell- though I think Mother Ginger and the other Regents should know, for safety’s sake.”
Captain Hoffman nodded silently, worry twisting in his stomach. He didn’t know grief, not personally, but even seeing Clara in such a state from afar was enough to make his heart ache for her. First she’d lost so much, and now to be plagued by nightmares and the threat of illness too? Just the thought of his friend having to endure such things was unbearable to think about.
Drosselmeyer placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding a thank you. Then he tipped his head toward Clara.
“Go on, son. She needs to get back to the castle.” He let go of Philip, then let the Captain bow before he walked towards Clara. He gave her a hug goodbye, telling her to send word to him should she need anything, and to come back to the Other world when she felt ready. Then he left without much more than a wave.
Clara rode on the back of Philip’s horse, holding onto him on the way back to the castle. She didn’t say much- only answered the questions he asked her with one or two words, if at all. He kept trying to pull her out of her painfully silent mourning, but most of his attempts were in vain.
He almost got a smile when he told her about how Hawthorn had gotten a kitten and it had begun to act like Mother Ginger’s mice, but something in his story seemed to remind her of something painful, because tears started brimming in her eyes after a moment. He stopped trying to talk her out of her sadness then, instead trying to make their ride as smooth as possible so she might fall asleep. He would hold her in front of him if she seemed to be getting sleepy.
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When they arrived at the castle, there wasn’t any of the dramatic fanfare that had accompanied her first arrival. He escorted her straight to her royal chambers, meaning to leave as soon as a hand maid arrived to tend to her. When he said as much to the princess, however, she fearfully took his hand in hers.
“Please, Philip, don’t leave me. Y-you’re all I have left of…”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and she buried her face in his chest again. As he held her close (with a proper, respectful stiffness kept in his posture, of course), the two heard a knock at the door. Clara whimpered, but called out a shaky, “c-come in” to the visitors, who turned out to be the regents.
Hawthorn and Mother Ginger came to her sides, murmuring condolences and gently patting her shoulders and hair, while Shiver motioned to the handmaid they’d brought with them.
“Get her bed ready to be slept in. The princess has had a long day, and will need rest.”
Clara let go of Philip after a minute, only to turn to each of the Regents, one at a time, to embrace them and wet their shoulders with her tears. They tried to distract her- Shiver made a small snowman appear out of thin air, Hawthorn produced a beautiful bouquet of flowers for her, and Mother Ginger pulled a beautifully made clockwork doll out of a pocket in her dress to give to her- but each thing made her smile only for a moment or two before they reminded her of her family and her smile wavered. They were all silently relieved when the maid announced that her bed was ready.
Everyone bid Clara goodnight and left once they’d seen her tucked into the warm covers on her bed. Despite her despair, she was so physically exhausted that she fell asleep before any of them had even left the room. Philip was last to leave, looking over his shoulder to send his thoughts of protection and healing her way. He closed her door behind him and headed to the throne room to tell the regents what Drosselmeyer had told him, on the condition that this information was (quite obviously) not meant to be shared without the Princess’ explicit permission.
Chapter Text
Captain Hoffman was only halfway through his story, standing in the center of the Regent throne room, when he was interrupted by a choked scream that sounded like it was coming from Clara’s chambers. In an instant, everyone was on their feet and running towards her room, worried that someone had done something to their princess. A number of castle guards followed them, swords half drawn. When they got to her door, however, Captain Hoffman stood in front of them and raised a hand, whispering, “hold on. Listen.”
They could hear muffled sobbing on the other side of the door, but no signs of an intruder. Philip tapped lightly at the door, and Mother Ginger picked Mouserinks up from the floor so that he, too, could come in to comfort the princess. There was no answer for several moments, only the sound of the princess crying, and they all shifted uncomfortably. Mouserinks looked sadly up at Mother Ginger while Hawthorn teared up. Then, Shiver cleared his throat quietly.
“Perhaps it would be best if Hawthorn and I...well, we might not be the best people to..” He seemed quite uncomfortable at all of the sudden emotion.
“You two go back to the throne room. We’ll be there in a little while, if we can get her to go back to sleep,” Mother Ginger said, then looked at the guards surrounding the group and dismissed them with a slight wave. Shiver and Hawthorn walked back to the throne room, the guards all returned to their posts, and Philip tried again at the door, this time knocking a little harder.
“Princess? Clara? Are you alright? Should we come in?” He called softly through the door, hoping not to startle her. The sobbing stopped for a moment, and Mother Ginger cautiously called, “If you’d like us to just leave, we can. Mouserinks wanted to come say hello to you, but if you want to be left alone we understand. We can come back to-”
“N-no! Don’t leave! You can come in,” Clara called somewhat frantically through the door. Philip pushed it open and held it for Mother Ginger, who stepped inside first. They both walked back to her bedside.
Clara was half-buried in her covers, tangled in a mess of quilt and Calico, and her tear stained cheeks were blushed pink with clear embarrassment. She sniffled and reached out for someone’s hand to hold, looking smaller and frailer than anyone had ever seen her before. Philip took her hand, and she visibly relaxed.
“Where’s Mouserinks? You said he wanted to see me?” she asked Ginger, who then set Mouserinks down on the edge of her bed. He scurried over to her, placing a paw on her cheek before nuzzling against her face. She closed her eyes and sighed sadly, shifting to try to fix the blankets that had tied themselves around her legs. Mother Ginger smoothed them out for her and she sighed again, sniffling. She pulled Philip’s hand closer to her face and seemed to be falling back asleep. Philip could feel a lingering, worrying warmth coming off of her, and a pang of fear went through him when he realized that her cheeks weren’t just blushing with embarrassment, but were also flushed with fever. He didn’t dare say anything now, though, for Clara had just fallen back to sleep, and her grip had loosened on his hand and arm enough that he could slide free of her grasp. He had to finish telling the Regents what Drosselmeyer had told him, and he should be getting back to his post, and-
“I know what you’re thinking, Captain, and I strongly advise against it. If she were to wake up again only to find you missing, it might put her in a worse state than she’s in now.” Mother Ginger gave him a look that told him she could read his mind.
“She’s warmer than she should be, ma’am. Should we do something?” His voice was quiet, not wanting to wake Clara again. Mother Ginger frowned and placed a cool hand on her forehead.
“It’s not too serious yet- but someone should keep an eye on it. In fact, I want you to do that, Captain. That’s an order.”
Philip nodded and stiffened as Clara shifted restlessly, then relaxed as she settled back down. He told Mother Ginger everything that Drosselmeyer had told him, and told her to tell the other Regents (and only the other Regents) so that they would be less confused by the princess’ current state. She left after he did, but allowed Mouserinks to stay behind and keep watch with the Captain, should he need a break or someone to talk to while he sat with the princess.
A few hours later, Clara woke with a start again, this time only gasping instead of screaming. She was shaking hard, but calmed down almost instantly when she saw that Philip had stayed with her. She borrowed his offered handkerchief, then nestled back down again to listen to Philip and Mouserinks tell her a story of one of the adventures she’d missed since she’d last visited the Realms. By the time she’d finally fallen asleep again, Mouserinks was running out of things to tease the captain about, and Philip found himself devoid of things to say.
As Philip looked down at the pale face hidden in the folds of royal bedding next to him, he sighed, and heard Mouserinks do the same. Both could tell that this was going to be a very long night.
Chapter Text
In the morning, when Shiver, Mother Ginger and Hawthorn came to check on the princess, they found Mouserinks curled up on her pillow, with Captain Hoffman dozing lightly against her bedpost. When the door opened, he groggily shot up to attention, looking around for a moment before muttering a bleary “good morning” to the visitors. Clara was still asleep, the warmth of her forehead still there, but not worse. She stirred and curled into herself as the Regents came in.
“Did she sleep at all?” Hawthorn asked nervously, smoothing out the covers at her feet with an expression not unlike that of a worried mother hen.
“Yes, once Mouserinks and I bored her to sleep. She only woke up once, but we had to tell her stories for almost an hour before she could sleep again.” Philip couldn’t keep the tinge of sadness out of his voice as he remembered how terrified the princess had been of the nightmares she’d had to face as she slept.
“Well, at least she got some sleep. I think we should leave her be for a while longer, and wake her for a late breakfast before noon,” Shiver said, and everyone nodded.
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Clara woke not much later, and Philip left to let her get dressed. She came into the throne room wearing a pale blue-grey dress and her hair in two braids. She greeted everyone, then followed them to breakfast. Philip could see that her appetite wasn’t as affected by her grief as he’d worried it might be, but every now and then she coughed worryingly. By the time they were done eating, she was starting to sound hoarse, too.
Philip stayed loyally by her side the whole day, through a couple of meetings and other bits of royal business, and through a trip to see Mother Ginger’s newest carnival ride in the Land of Amusements. She smiled more freely, but still seemed touched by melancholy. And he noticed, whenever he looked closely at her, that even when they weren’t anywhere cold or dreary, she shivered like she was standing out in the winter rain and snow. After hearing her teeth chatter in between her laughs of delight on Mother Ginger’s carousel, he decided to say something about the situation.
“Princess, are you feeling alright?” He asked as the ride came to a stop. Clara ignored him, responding instead to the conductor’s questioning glance by nodding for the ride to go around again. Philip tried again, this time tapping her on the shoulder first to force her to look at him.
“I asked if you were alright, Clara. You’re shivering, but your cheeks are flushed and you feel warm to the touch. Are you well?”
She looked down at her lap, frowning. She shook her head, then nodded frantically.
“Y-yes, I’m fine. I’m just cold, is all. You’ve got pants and long sleeves on- my skirt hem only comes down to my calf. You’re obviously going to be warmer than I am.” Though she stuttered at first, her response was indignant. Philip nodded, muttering a short apology for asking. The two sat on the carousel in silence after that, the only noise between them the occasional cough from Clara. She was smiling when they got off, though, so Philip didn’t think he’d upset her too much.
“I’m hungry, are you?” she asked him suddenly, looking between him and a jester standing by a cart selling candy apples. He chuckled and nodded, and she pulled him toward the merchant, buying an apple for each of them. They sat nearby to eat them, savoring the sweet, sticky treats until they were gone.
“Where would you like to go now?” Clara asked, looking at Philip. He shrugged, then pointed at a circus tent with Mother Ginger’s face on it. They went inside and sat down to watch a troupe of performers dance and do acrobatic stunts.
Philip found himself paying more attention to the princess than the show, however, because the longer they sat on the bleachers around the circus arena, the heavier she leaned against his side, and the more warmth he could feel seeping through his sleeve from her forehead. Even from his side view, he could see that her eyes were slightly glazed over, and a light shine of sweat was accumulating on her brow. Her fever was getting worse.
As soon as the show was over, he helped her up and walked her out of the circus tent. She was quiet- as quiet as she’d been when she first arrived. She’d shed some of her melancholy mourning, but now she was quiet for a different, somehow more terrifying reason. They rode back to the castle in the royal carriage, and he tried to keep her engaged, but she didn’t really seem to understand anything he said. She was there physically, but the burning heat of her forehead told him she wasn’t all there, really. He desperately hoped they could get back to the castle in time to find a doctor who would know how to treat her illness.